Fortytwo to One Against
by leelee3
Summary: FordArthur slash. Ford finds it hard to tell Arthur how he feels.


**Forty-two to One Against **

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this magnificently written series, no matter how hard I wish I had come up with it first.

Warnings: Ford/Arthur, other stuff that I'll just throw in when I feel like it

Notes: I have never attempted a H2G2 fic, and I don't think I can copy Adams' style (and I guess I might as well not try, you know, and spare everyone the pain), but I'll do my best to make this an entertaining way to pass the time. …Well, for me, if no one else.

—

"I wish there was something I could _do_ for him, you know?" said Ford to Zaphod on the bridge of the _Heart of Gold_ spaceship.

"Yes, he is a bit uptight, isn't he?"

"Well, try having your planet blown up and then having to get used to an entirely different environment _and_ the fact that the only remnants of your home lie within a girl, who doesn't want you, and a couple of mice," Ford said, watching Arthur across the way with something more than just sympathy in his shockingly blue eyes.

Zaphod stared at his semi-cousin with his left set of eyes. His right head, the suspiciously stuffed-looking one, ignored the conversation completely, opting instead to watch the stars floating by on the ship's monitor. A random bowl of petunias wafted by in the general area and he could have sworn he heard a small cry for help.

"So, when did this happen?" Zaphod's left head asked.

"When did what happen?" Ford asked.

"When did you start seeing the Earthman as more than just 'a friend of mine that I saved when his planet blew up'?"

Ford hesitated then shrugged, suddenly wishing a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster would fall from the sky about now. He glanced up at the ceiling, not very surprised but no less disappointed when nothing happened.

"Dunno. Maybe five, six Earth years ago? But I don't think he ever noticed."

"Not very hard to believe. Ape descendant, you know," Zaphod said, grinning obnoxiously.

—

The entire exchange went unnoticed by the dark-haired ape descendant. Arthur was too preoccupied with his current tea withdrawal and the complete lack of cooperation given by the machine he was presently glaring at. Not that the machine took any notice, of course. He pressed the button for tea over and over, and over and over he was granted a bland, watery substance that was to excite every one of his taste buds to the highest plains of pleasure. And with the horrid drink came that damned "Share and enjoy" motto that it chanted like a mantra.

"Tea! It's all I ask, really. Not too much, you know, in exchange for your planet blowing up, is it?"

"Share and enjoy," the Nutrimatic repeated cheerily as it produced another cup of something that wasn't even worthy of being called a substitute for his beloved tea.

"You've been trying every day for almost a year, Arthur," Ford said, walking towards him. "Don't you think it's time to give up?"

"No, it can do it. It's done it before."

"And while it was figuring it out, we almost died."

"…"

"Look, we'll stop on the next planet and get you some. How's that?"

"But it won't be the same."

An adorable pout crossed Arthur's features, and Ford stepped on both sets of his toes, a trait he had picked up from one of his mothers, to stop his very possibly feminine squeal. Stepping on his toes did nothing to hide the blush but Arthur, too busy with his tea, failed to realize. Silence stood around awkwardly, waiting for them to strike up another conversation so that he could leave.

"Um, well…" Ford started, and silence tip-toed out the back way, "there is more to life than tea."

"What, like forty-two?"

"Er—"

"And doors that express their undying gratitude at being privileged enough to open themselves for you? And bloody stupid machines that can examine your taste buds but can't make a bloody damned cup of boiled leaves!"

Arthur kicked the Nutrimatic machine angrily, and the lights of the spaceship flickered momentarily. The ship's computer sprang to life, and Eddie's chipper voice rang throughout the craft, the sound waves wafting in the general on/off area of the radio. It hummed softly with unfamiliar music.

"All of our appliances are ecstatic to have you aboard, but if you would please refrain from all kicking, punching, or screaming, we would be most obliged!" Eddie burbled with excruciating euphoria. "No one likes to have their feelings hurt and we are Genuine People Personalities just like you are!"

"I hate you," Arthur seethed, trying his best to glare at the Nutrimatic, the radio, Eddie, and the tickertape all at the same time.

"Arthur," Ford attempted.

"I need tea, Ford!"

"I love you."

"TEAAAAA! …I'm sorry, what was that?"

"What was what?"

"That bit you said just now."

"Arthur?"

"After that."

"What was what?"

"…Before that."

Ford blinked, throwing Arthur off guard. It was such a rare occurrence; Arthur had forgotten that Ford even knew how.

"I don't believe I said anything, Arthur."

"Said anything about what?" the Earthman asked, his train of thought having crashed just before reaching the station.

It was then that Ford grinned, and of course Arthur, like many others, fought off the urge to protect his neck. Ford's experience on Earth had taught him that its inhabitants had an exponentially decreasing attention span. So his grin, while effectively wigging out anyone in a five-mile radius, was in response to his immense relief that Arthur was indeed an Earthman.

"Erm, right then," Arthur started awkwardly. "It's late, I guess. And I'm rather tired. I'm going to bed, all right? I'll see you in the…artificial morning."

Ford smiled and waved to him as he left for his bedroom, standing around uselessly as he watched Arthur leave. Throwing pocket lint into the on/off zone of the radio, Ford plopped down on the floor, listening to the soft whirring of the spaceship. He was now utterly depressed. He glanced at the ceiling again for that Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

"Hey, try again tomorrow, man," Zaphod said, suddenly next to him.

"Do you know how many times Arthur and I have had this conversation, Zaphod? Well, neither do I, but every time it turns out the same. I don't get it. I've never been afraid of anything in my life."

"What about—?"

"Shut up."

Zaphod grinned obnoxiously again, clapping Ford on the shoulder. "I'm sorry. But don't worry, it'll work out. Hey look, man, I'm turning on night if you want it."

"Thanks."

After the ship's synthetic night had been activated, Zaphod went off in the direction of his bedroom as well, leaving Ford to ponder exactly how he would get Arthur into his bed without doing something horribly stupid to scare him off. He found it severely uncharacteristic of himself to be this intimidated by the Earthman, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. He had spent too much time on that primitive rock. He blinked again. He was losing his 'it' factor, and it was all Arthur's fault.

—

A little hesitant to post this, but hey. It's here now. Tell me what you think! 


End file.
